Straight Up Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 2)

“Right. We don’t know what’s going to happen yet.” I try to smile, but I’m not feeling it, and I’m afraid my worry is obvious on my face.

“Thanks, Ava.” She takes a deep breath. “I’d better get back to this grading.”

“We’ll talk more on Monday,” I promise as I head to the booth to meet Ellie.

“What was that about?” Ellie asks as I slide in.

“Windsor Prep is going to do a big round of layoffs.” I rub my temples. “The middle school program never grew like they thought it would, and apparently the board voted to get rid of it.”

“Well, shit,” Ellie says. “And the cheerleader chick has her head on the chopping block?”

I draw in a ragged breath. “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope not.” Honestly, the only colleague I’d like to see go is my asshole principal.

“What about you? You teach in the high school part, so you’re okay, right?”

“Maybe. I don’t know how they’ll handle it.”

“I’m so sorry, Ava.”

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. We don’t know anything yet.” But until the layoffs are done, I know my plans are postponed. Having a child on my own will be tough, but embarking on this mission without a steady job would be nothing short of careless. A weight settles onto me, crushing the joy I’ve been carrying since I decided to launch Operation Pregnancy.

Jake

By the time Saturday night rolls around, I’m kicking myself for agreeing to talk to Ava about her baby plans. There are a lot of conversations I’d prefer to never have. A conversation with Ava about having someone else’s baby tops the list—tied with a conversation with my mom about her sex life. In other words, if I didn’t think this was really fucking important, there’s no way I’d indulge in such emotional masochism.

I leave my apartment and take the stairs down to Jackson Brews. Ava’s scheduled to close tonight. Maybe this isn’t the best place to have such a delicate conversation, but I’m ready to rip off the Band-Aid. At least here we can talk over a beer instead of in the awkward silence of her house.

“Jake!” Ava spots me as I push out of the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

I shrug. “I live here.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re not on the schedule for tonight.”

“Nothing else to do.” That’s not true. I scheduled myself off because I had a date with a peppy pharmaceutical rep who calls me up when she’s passing through town. I canceled after Ava left my apartment this morning. Call me crazy, but after discussing the possibility of making a baby with Ava, I wasn’t up to a date with another woman.

I wander behind the bar to scope the scene. There’s a decent crowd tonight for off-season, with most of the barstools and half the tables occupied, but behind the bar there’s no sign it’s been busy. Ava keeps everything clean when she’s back here. I never have to get on her about scrubbing the coolers or flushing the keg lines. She takes pride in her work, as if Jackson Brews was her own.

Ava’s worked at Jackson Brews on weekends and the occasional evening since her husband left her two years ago. She started for the extra money, but I like to think she stays on because she likes her nights behind the bar with me. God knows the nights we work together are my favorite.

The truth is, despite Ellie’s concern that the life of a single mom would be too hard for Ava, I know without a doubt that Ava would embrace the challenge. And I know she was right when she told me she wouldn’t regret a child. My only concern boils down to the timing. Is this something she’d want to do if Harrison’s wife weren’t pregnant?

“I just wanted to check on things,” I say, unwilling to admit I came down here just to talk about her plans. “I thought I’d see how everyone’s liking my new white stout.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh my God! I didn’t even know you tapped it.” She grabs a sampler glass and fills it halfway. “Do you mind?” she asks as she brings it to her lips.

“Of course not.”

She drinks half of the sample in one long swallow and closes her eyes. “Jesus, that’s good.”

Reason #2603 I’m in love with Ava McKinley: she gets good beer.

My family’s business is beer. Dad risked everything to start the family brewery. After years of brewing his own concoctions in the garage, he sold his share of his father’s construction company and founded Jackson Brews. My oldest brother, Brayden, is the face of the business now. He’s responsible for marketing and our distribution deals, as well as the ins and outs of turning our microbrewery into the sizable craft beer empire Dad dreamed it could be. I run the other face of the business—the Jackson Brews Brewpub—and am responsible for eighty percent of the new recipes with the Jackson Brews label. I love to toy with beer almost as much as I love to toy with food, so the job suits me, even if it isn’t anywhere near what I imagined I’d be doing with my computer science degree.

“You really like it?” I ask when she opens her eyes again.

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; “It’s smooth, but the flavor’s more interesting than the stuff we had from Grand Rapids. Seriously, you wouldn’t know it wasn’t a dark stout if you weren’t looking at it. Crazy!”